Sinners
by Semjaza
Summary: There was a vulnerability to Nero that made Trish want to hurt him. She resisted that urge for a good ten seconds and figured she was well on her way to sainthood. - Trish meets Nero in Fortuna and just can't help herself. She fully intends to interrogate him but gets distracted. Very, very distracted. Gloria (Trish) x Nero. Set during DMC4.


Author Notes: PLEASE read this on Archive of Our Own and not this puritanical hellsite. I wrote a lot of this in 2015, but never got around to completing it until now. I wanted to write Trish as an amoral predator, and have her toy with Nero a bit. He doesn't take much convincing, really. Also, it's been a while since I played this game, and I can't remember what Trish knew about the Order at what point in the timeline. So, uh… don't worry about those details, lol. Also, if you'd like more tagged content warnings, please see my AO3 account. This is rated M for language, violence, and sexuality. Set early on in DMC4. All characters are 18+.

* * *

Sinners

Trish liked to stir the pot. She thrived on chaos and disorder, craving violence and anguish and confusion. She wasn't outwardly malicious; she could tone down her nature enough to live among humans, but she'd be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy it when there was a car accident on their street, or the couple next door had a screaming match, or Dante came home from a mission so utterly pissed off he immediately picked a fight with her. When things were peaceful and quiet, she got edgy, and tense. Conflict soothed her dark little soul like honey on a sore throat.

While a trip to an orderly, cult-controlled castle-town like Fortuna might seem counter-intuitive, to Trish it held near-limitless potential. Order was unnatural, and the universe conspired against it. She didn't do religion, but she had a real thing for entropy. Chaos was both inevitable and unavoidable, but that didn't mean she couldn't help it along and speed up the process. And if that meant utterly fucking-up a quaint, medieval-style village, well then, Trish was all for it.

Dante had carefully been kept uninformed. He had a few qualms about the deliberate maiming of humans, and Trish cared enough, however dubiously, that she was willing to humour his requests about minimizing collateral damage. But regardless of how human Dante might think her, Trish was a full-blood demoness, and she had cravings that slaughtering bottom-feeder devils simply could not satisfy. While she would certainly assist Dante in his ultimate goals and happily investigate this enclave of uptight Sparda-fanatics, she was going to help on her own terms, or not at all.

The kid threw her for a loop, though. Six foot two, semi-demonic, abrasive personality; the resemblance to Dante was uncanny, so much so that she seriously considered calling him up and asking if he'd fathered any bastards in the past two decades. Nero was violent and foul-mouthed and yet completely enveloped in the moral codes of the little town. He was honest and good-hearted, deep down. It was like drinking a glass of bitter absinthe only to find a dollop of sugar at the bottom. Disgusting.

Nero had potential as an information source, however. The doddering old fool in charge was more cunning and tight-lipped than he'd first appeared, and he certainly wasn't talking now that Dante had blown a hole in his skull. The general with the Mephistophelian goatee was the type that mistrusted women as a matter of course, and the scientist reminded her of a bug that needed squashing. It wasn't as though she had the patience to wait while he formed complete sentences, either. So, she set her sights on the snarky bundle of rage and hormones, trekking out to the castle and waiting for Nero to make his appearance. In all likelihood, he knew little of value. Nonetheless, his reputation led Trish to believe that he'd at least be mildly entertaining.

She cornered Nero in the castle's dusty library, startling him as he held the helm of an Angelo in his hand like some unfortunate stand-in for Hamlet. He dropped the armor with a loud clang, cursing softly as it dissolved into a flutter of sparks. Trish stepped forward brightly, offering her hand. She smirked as Nero's gaze drifted over her, lips to breasts and then down her long legs.

"Who the hell are you?" He snarled, now studiously avoiding looking at her. He backed off when she moved closer, his discomfort blatant. She wondered how much of it was due to her provocative outfit, and how much was his devil-side reacting to the presence of a full-blood demoness. The idea of a prude and a devil entwined in the same person seemed laughably incongruous, and Trish didn't bother to stifle her grin.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to a lady?" she asked, letting her voice dip huskily. The look Nero was giving her made it quite clear he didn't find _anything_ lady-like about her, and before he could react she grabbed his demonic arm in her out-stretched hand. He jerked away immediately, but Trish simply tightened her grasp and held her ground. Her strength was such that he couldn't even budge her if she planted her feet, and he stumbled towards her, flustered and confused.

"What the fuck? Let go!"

"I'm Gloria, the newest executive in the high council," she explained. "And you must be Nero. I'm charmed to have finally made your acquaintance. I've heard so much about you."

He forgot to be mortified long enough to bark a laugh at that, and Trish smiled, showing her teeth. He wasn't so stupid that he didn't get sarcasm, then. Nero paused in his struggles, seemingly debating how much trouble he'd get in if he just kicked her away. Trish kept hold of the devil bringer firmly, relishing the hum of power that emanated from the demonic limb.

"What are you doing?"

Trish gave her best 'ignorant bitch' look and pretended to think for a moment. "I'm new here, and I thought it'd be nice to make some friends. I'm sure we have a lot in common."

Nero scoffed. "Great, that's nice. Anyway, I have work to do, so if you don't mind…" His arm sparked blue as he tried again to break her grip. "How in hell are you doing that, anyway? What are you?"

Trish preened. "I'm just like you, Nero. Only better. Less tainted." She slid her hand upwards until she could entwine her fingers amongst his talons, watching Nero's eyes dilate despite his growing discomfort. So, he wasn't entirely thrilled about his demonic side, then. That was interesting. "Why don't I help you? I'm sure headquarters is taking care of the scarecrow problem. We could team up and take down the assassin together."

"I work best alone."

"I've heard. But you're no match for the man in red, kiddo. I'm sure I can help you out." To emphasize her point, Trish tugged the demonic arm closer and ran her tongue over the leathery hide covering Nero's inner wrist. His reaction was immediate. Nero gasped, tried to flinch away, and then stilled, teeth bared. Trish glanced his way, noting the gleam of red surfacing in his eyes. She let go as Nero jerked his arm free and let him stagger backwards, thoroughly disconcerted.

"Wha-?"

"We're wasting time. Let's search the castle." Trish turned on her heel and strode away, swaying her hips. After a long pause, she heard booted footsteps behind her.

* * *

"So, what are you, exactly?"

They'd gotten as far as the dining room before Nero had gathered his thoughts enough to speak again. He'd stayed a half-step behind her as they walked, dividing his time between watching for demons and sneaking sidelong glances at her. He didn't seem particularly happy about her presence, but on the other hand, he could've left her alone, and he hadn't.

"We're the same," Trish answered, off-handed and non-committal. Her gaze flicked over the dark tapestries lining the room, searching for any sign of the armored automatons that stalked the castle's halls. The possessed armor, combined with the Order's penchant for catching demons and caging them in their laboratories, made Trish think that there was much more happening on the island than a few odd religious choices. The Order definitely had plans, of some sort. And there was at least one gate to the underworld nearby that was being tampered with. Her clit ached every time someone set off a summoning spell, the power of the gate arching up from the depths, enveloping the entire town in a cloud of static. Trish, sensitive to these changes in demonic energy, spent most of her time in a state of mildly frustrating low-level arousal. She wondered if Nero ever felt it, or if it registered in the same way…

"He said that too."

"Hmmm?" Nero's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to watch him, catching him staring at her. He scratched his nose and glanced at the floor, the faintest blush gracing his cheeks.

"The man who shot His Holiness. He said we were the same: me, him, and the knights he killed. Only they weren't really knights, I don't think. Their eyes were messed up, after they died. Like fiery ooze, or something." Nero rubbed the back of his neck and seemed to be having an argument inside his head at the same time he spoke to her. Trish smiled at him.

"Demons, then. How odd, given that the Order is sworn to destroy them."

"Yeah, but I'm not… I mean…" Nero stopped talking and shook his head.

Trish smirked. "Oh, but I think you are. And I think you know it, too."

"Whatever," Nero muttered, rolling his eyes to hide his disquiet. He shouldered past her rudely and headed back into the hallway. Trish sauntered after him, relaxing against the wall as Nero fought scarecrows. He crushed them as they spawned, catching them in his demonic hand and snuffing their lives out with barely a sound. Trish observed, sliding her tongue over her teeth.

"Oh, I'm not a demon, says the boy with a demon arm," she mocked.

"I'm not," Nero spat, kicking open the door to the master's chamber with absolutely no regard for the building's status as an important historical landmark.

"A boy?" Trish followed him in, not bothering to hide her amusement. Nero looked as though he'd love to knock her down and stomp on her face, but before he could the room's wards flared. Scarecrows and Frosts surged up from the floor, and Nero drew his sword, leaping forward.

Nero could fight, if nothing else. He wasn't as fast or as strong as Dante, but that wasn't a fair comparison for anyone. He was, however, graceful, inventive, and utterly brutal. Trish watched him rush through the smaller demons with a no-holds-barred savagery. Nero left the room's priceless tapestries matted with gore, grinding pulped flesh and broken bones under his feet. Blood ran in rivulets down his blade as he flung himself across the room, catching the last Frost with his blue-scaled fist and smashing it repeatedly into the stone floor.

He was good to watch, Trish decided. Powerful, but not annoyingly dominant. He was sure of himself in the midst of battle, confident in his skillset, but not as certain of his place outside of a fight. There was a vulnerability to Nero that just made Trish want to hurt him. She resisted that urge for a good ten seconds (figuring she was well on her way to sainthood with that) and stepped into his personal space.

Nero reacted like a scalded cat, launching himself across the room. Trish waited, idly wiping a few drops of blood from her uniform and licking them off her fingers. Nero watched her intently, unable to help himself. Within a minute, he was back at her side, driven there by his own nature. He frowned at her, conflicted but incapable of making himself walk away.

"Want to get the rest?" Trish gestured at the remaining spots of blood that flecked her clothes. "Seeing as how you were the one to ruin this outfit."

Nero tried to feign disgust but didn't quite manage it. Trish offered her wrist, shifting her weight slightly to protect herself in case he decided he'd had enough of this game and tossed her. She didn't think he would though, the way he was biting his lip.

"Well?" she encouraged.

Nero didn't disappoint. He caught Trish's hand in his and dipped his head to lap the blood from her white gloves. Unprompted, he knelt in front of her, his mouth hot against her stomach as he worked his way upwards. Trish laced her fingers into his hair, leaned back against the wall, and sighed contentedly. Better than expected. Her arousal, always at a low-level burn, flared into full electric life. She felt Nero's response as he dragged his teeth over her breast.

"Very nice," she purred, stretching just a little in hopes that Nero would take a hint and push some fabric aside. She wasn't wearing much to begin with – all he needed to do was show some initiative. She felt his breathing quicken, and gently stroked his throat, wondering what he was thinking. If he was at all conflicted by this…

He must've been. Nero pulled away, shaking his head. He didn't stand up, but refused to look at Trish. He carefully kept his demonic hand away from her. It flicked erratically, and Trish couldn't help but grab it and pull Nero to his feet. Nero hissed and yanked his hand away, but Trish caught it in her own and placed it squarely on her breast.

"I don't bruise easily," she said, hoping he'd hurt her, just a little. His eyes said he wanted to do that, and more.

What he said was, "I've got a girl."

Trish managed to stifle her laugh, but just barely.

"A girl, hmm?" she drawled. "A lovely, innocent, _human _girl. One you want to bruise, corrupt, twist into positions she cannot even begin to fathom?"

Nero didn't reply. He pulled his hand away and took a step back, but Trish closed the space again.

"You'll hurt her, you know. You might not realize it at first, and she might not even notice, for a while. But you will slowly blemish her beauty like tarnish on a silver ring. I'm not talking about her virginity, either. I mean the poisonous effect you'll have on her soul. Humans and devils aren't meant to be together. It's unnatural."

Nero looked stricken. He stared off into space for a long moment, frowning. Trish wondered how much he believed her. When he glanced at her again, he didn't meet her eyes, his posture more submissive than anything else.

"Don't look so sad, baby. I'm sure you two will love each other forever."

Nero's glare said, 'you fucking bitch,' but when she licked her lips, his attention was riveted to her.

"Now, I believe you were taking care of something for me?"

Nero glanced at her distractedly, his breathing still a touch ragged. He dropped his head to her collarbone and left a trail of warm kisses down her chest. Trish peeled off her gloves and managed to unbutton the bindings that held her uniform together. Her nipples were tight against the fabric, and when Nero finally slid his tongue over one her pleased gasp was entirely genuine. She didn't flinch at the feel of his teeth, instead clenching her hands into his coat and pulling him closer.

She wanted him badly now, and not just to torment him. Nero's aura sparked off hers wherever their bodies met, electric blue meeting incandescent lightning. He crushed her against the wall, catching her hair in his fist and yanking her head back to expose her throat. He tugged her uniform lower, then ripped at the fabric impatiently, leaving her completely exposed except for her boots. Trish arched against him, loving the feel of Nero's rough work clothes against her sensitive skin. His human hand trailed down her chest and belly before sliding between her legs. He found her clit without any trouble, rubbing it under his thumb while he held her in place. Trish knew he wasn't pleasuring her to be nice.

She laughed. "A dominance game, Nero? Oh baby, how will you possibly win?"

Nero's eyes flashed red for an instant, and Trish waited. His teeth on her throat felt sharper than they looked, and his demonic hand gripped her waist, holding her still. He pressed his hips up against her, grinding his clothed erection along her thigh. Trish shifted her weight and Nero's breath hitched, his talons digging into her skin and drawing blood. He pushed up against her again, teeth and tongue drifting over her throat, and Trish decided she'd had enough teasing.

She freed herself easily, shaking her hair loose and catching both of Nero's hands when he tried to grab her, smiling when he realized that now _he_ was caught, not her. Trish let him struggle for a moment; the force of his demonic power sparking off her own was almost as good as a tongue on her clit. Almost.

"Be a good boy and get back on your knees," she suggested, and watched the war in Nero's head for nearly a full minute before he knelt, electricity crackling in the air around them. "That's better. Now, come here."

She didn't have to wait nearly as long this time. Nero's lips found her inner thigh and he kissed his way upwards. She allowed him to nudge her legs further apart, slick with expectation. Trish stepped forward a bit to rebalance herself, sinking her hands into Nero's hair for a moment but managing to stop herself before she pulled him to her. Nero stroked a taloned hand down her leg, his claw tips catching against her delicate skin and drawing blood. Trish waited, sighing, while he traced the wounds with his tongue.

"Bet _she_ doesn't let you do that," Trish taunted, and gasped when Nero bit her, halfway up her thigh. They groaned together when he sucked on the bite, and then Trish couldn't wait any longer. "Hurry up," she demanded, and fisted Nero's hair again.

Nero obeyed. He held her still with one hand and took a moment to tease her with the other, fingers sliding into her so roughly she yelped, delighted. His tongue found her clit and he lapped at it, letting her grind against his face. Trish shivered against him, letting her hips rock, aching with need now that she'd let herself go. She moved to push him onto his back, but Nero resisted, and she couldn't focus enough to knock him down. He was mostly under her anyway, kneeling between her spread legs, his hands on her ass to keep her against his mouth.

He hadn't moved to touch himself, but she could feel his teeth more consistently now, sliding over her delicate flesh. He sucked at her clit and then reached around to twist his fingers into her again, hard enough to make her flinch. He raked his teeth over her and she screamed and lost it all at once, rocking against his face, electricity arching down her spine. Nero wrapped his arms around her hips and held her against him as she spasmed, tongue sliding over her clit until it hurt to touch. Trish slumped against him, and he adjusted his grip to catch her, pulling her to her feet with him as he stood up. She leaned against his shoulder, getting her breath back, and he let her stay there for precisely ten seconds before picking her up.

Nero lifted her easily, took three steps to the sagging, antique bed, and dropped her on the blankets. Trish rolled onto her side and looked at him.

"Aren't you scared we'll break it? They'll probably dock your pay."

Nero gave her an exasperated glance that she was starting to appreciate. She waited, amused, while he fumbled with his belt and zipper.

"Need a hand with that?" Trish laughed, gasping when he flipped her over onto her belly, one hand grabbing her ass and squeezing. She considered provoking a fight for a moment, contemplated how much fun it would be to stand up right now and trounce Nero in a fistfight, just for the absolute hell of it, and barely managed to contain herself. She pulled her knees underneath of her, then stretched her arms out in front, arching her back and smirking when she heard Nero curse softly behind her.

"What's the hold up?" She asked. "Never get this far before? Hurry up, Nero. Some of us actually have things to do today."

She heard Nero mutter, "fuck you," and then his weight settled on the bed behind her. There was further rustling as he finally managed to open his belt and unzip his jeans. His human hand settled on her back, stroking down her spine before reaching between her legs.

"Well, that's a start. If you'd taken any longer, we would've had to switch places."

In response, Nero shoved three fingers into her and curled them viciously. He pumped them a few times, and Trish rocked against him. Ruthlessness always pleased her, and she liked that she could bring it out in Nero. She felt him press his cock against her thigh, leaving a sticky trail.

"Don't like that idea? Come on," she groaned, electricity flickering down her spine. Trish braced her weight on one hand and lifted the other to tease her tight nipples. She heard shuffling behind her, and then Nero's weight was against her back. He shoved into her abruptly, driving the breath out of her, pulled out and slammed back in so roughly she shrieked. He hesitated a second after that, so she pushed back against him, gratified when he set a punishing pace. His lips pressed to her shoulder as he fucked into her slick heat.

"Oh, that's good," she moaned. "I'm so glad you figured it out. I was thinking I'd have to get out my strap-on, tie you down on the bed, and fuck you up the ass till you screamed."

Nero huffed against her throat, thrusting into her insistently. "Try it, bitch," he growled, fucking her harder. His hands clenched around her waist to drag her down onto his cock. Trish arched her back and took it, rocking against him, meeting every thrust perfectly.

"Next time, Nero," she purred, delighted with the relentless penetration. "I bet you'd take it so beautifully."

Nero's claws caught in her flesh, blood beading up under his fingers. Trish relished the sting, wishing he'd bite. Blood scented the air, and she felt Nero's mouth on the back of her neck, licking and sucking.

"You take it beautifully," he muttered, sounding half out of his mind. He reached around with his human hand and found her clit, circling it with a finger before pressing down hard. Trish yelped and jerked in his arms, and he tightened his grip. He rubbed at her clit, holding her closer when she bucked away from him, overstimulated.

Trish struggled for breath, pleasure arching through her. Nero pinned her down and fucked her hard, demonic power flowing through both of them. It felt like an electric shock under her skin, hitting all her sensitive points with an exquisite, fiery intensity. The rhythm built, Nero's hard cock splitting her open repeatedly, until she couldn't handle it anymore. Trish thrashed and screamed, orgasm wracking her body like a lightning bolt. Nero kept going a few moments longer, trying to drive himself deeper, and Trish heard him swear over the static in her head. His teeth sank into her shoulder, viciously, and he bit her again and again as he came, his claws sinking into Trish's hip to hold her in place.

Trish came back to herself slowly, listening to Nero's ragged breathing and wondering if he'd blacked out for a second. She felt her wounds close neatly, sighing at the pleasurable itch as her flesh sewed itself together. He hadn't hurt her all that badly, anyway. Nero's weight moved off of her as he pulled out, and she turned to find him kneeling beside her on the bed, looking shell-shocked.

"Well?" She asked.

Nero hadn't got his breath back. "What are you?" He asked again, panting. He stared at the blood on his hands, then ran his eyes over Trish, searching for a mark and finding none.

Trish rose to her feet and stretched luxuriantly, smoothing her hair into place. She reached for the shreds of her uniform, snapping it back into pristine condition with a flick of her wrist and a tiny burst of demonic magic. She dressed slowly, facing Nero, but it seemed like he was looking through her.

"Oh Nero," Trish sighed. "Isn't a better question, what are _you_?"

* * *

I like this pairing, and it's tempting to write more of it. This fic is standalone at the moment, but might get additional chapters on AO3. But anyway, leave a review if you're interested in seeing more of this pairing, or if you want to fight me about my characterization, or whatever.


End file.
